Friday, February 3, 2012

month nine

Today you are nine months old. To celebrate, you woke up to not one, but two little teeth. Your bottom teeth finally pushed through – after six months of waiting for them, the day has finally come.

You are much the same as you were a month ago. Happy – jolly, even – much of the time. You are still practicing your standing/letting go routine, and you’ve even added a knee bend to it. You’ll be kneeling one minute and the next moment you are standing, without so much as a hand for assistance. Just brute strength.

You love to play with anything and everything your sister is playing with. You also love to eat anything and everything that anyone is eating.

Lately, you’ve been waking very early in the a.m. I should probably get up with you and do something productive with the extra hour, but instead I hand you a box with an assortment of items – a lego horse, a few blocks, other randomness. You will sit in the bed and quietly play with the items with a huge grin on your face. You are seriously, SO happy. Until you are not. And when you are not happy, you are very serious in your unhappiness. The pent-up anger builds inside of you and you begin to shout. Oh, lord help me, another one…full of intensity. A feisty-foo, just like your sister (and mama and papa?!).

Next week I have a work related overnight in Chicago. I’m not looking forward to leaving you for the first time, but I will be honest – I am looking forward to sleeping through the night. You are a Horrible sleeper, with a capital “H”. I know it will get better, but it’s a pain. You wake about ten times from the time we put you down to the time you are up for the day. I’m not complaining – I know the drill. But I am warning you. I will wake you up at 6 a.m. every Saturday morning when you are a teenager, and remind you of your first nine months. So consider yourself warned. You better sleep through the night, this instant (as Sonia would say, with clenched teeth). Get in line, girl. Get in line.

We went to the doctor today and you weigh 17 el-bees. I can't remember how long you are, but you're 75th percentile for height and 30th or so for weight.

1 comment:

Great post. I love this letter. I wish I could squeeze that jolly girl and smoooooch her smooch her smooch her. And I fully support the six a.m. Saturday wake-ups all through her teenage years. And hey, if you're ever up to run to the loo in the middle of the night, you may as well wake her then, too.